


A Good Boy

by Ambereyedwolfchild



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Could be seen as slash or not, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 02:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambereyedwolfchild/pseuds/Ambereyedwolfchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of this headcanon from empresspinto.tumblr.com:</p><p>Basically, on the roof top, it’s Richard pretending to be Jim. And seeing how loyal he is, he’ll do anything for his brother…. so when he realizes Sherlock is going to get him to call it off, he pulls out the gun and shoots himself, dying with a smile on his face because he did the ultimate sacrifice for his brother and knows that he was a good boy in the end.</p><p>Link: http://empresspinto.tumblr.com/post/42943691533/so-i-just-came-up-with-a-new-richard-headcanon</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Boy

It wasn’t part of the plan, and Richard hoped Jim wouldn’t be angry about it. His brother had always liked everything perfectly to plan. But he didn’t think Jim would be too mad about this little divergence, because he was just doing it to make sure that Sherlock didn’t win. Jim hated to lose even more than he hated it when his pawns went off script.

So it was with a smile that Richard pulled out the gun and fired off a single round, more confident than he’d ever been with a gun before, and that same smile was still on his face as he collapsed to the ground, eyes blank and unseeing.

Richard had been right. Jim wasn’t angry about it. Not at all. Jim had been watching, he always watched, keeping an eye on his brother, his good little angel that always did as he was told. Until now. Jim didn’t react as his baby brother fell, face blank and distant as Sherlock teetered on the edge of the building. He didn’t react as Sherlock said his goodbyes, didn’t react as Sherlock hit the ground.

No. Jim didn’t react until he was home, safe behind locked doors. He wasn’t angry. Not at first. It wasn’t until the mirror taunted him, showing him a familiar face that he’d never see smiling again, that his fragile walls broke. He would be found three days later, surrounded by the shattered remnants of the flat and his memories, and James Moriarty would rise to his feet without a word, brush off his suit and set the world alight for taking his brother away.


End file.
